Lost The Plot
by embracing-shadows
Summary: More than one CSI has lost the plot of the story of life. In fact, they're all pretty lost. SLASH


Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!

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"Excuse me,"

I looked up with light surprise, not having expected anyone else to even be around the lab at that time. All of my coworkers were out on scenes; I would have been too but I had brought in some crucial trace that I needed right away. Since there was nothing for me to process while waiting I was sitting here reading yesterday's newspaper. The voice that interrupted me was familiar but unexpected. I arose from out of the sports section of the paper and was met with the sight of Greg standing in the doorway. He looked decidedly disheveled with his vest hanging open loosely, his hair standing on end, and his eyes slightly vacant.

"Do you know where the dealers are?"

His words caused me to do a double take and slowly lower my newspaper to the metal table in front of me. I narrowed my eyes and cocked my head. He mimicked the movement, although I seriously doubt that he was aware he had done it. He was a pale guy at the best of times but right now he resembled the crisp white sheets currently adorning my bed. Underneath the vest he hadn't done up his shirt was crumpled and dirty looking, as if he'd slept in it. One leg of his jeans had a long brown streak down it, and his expression was like nothing I'd ever seen on him before. He looked like he was mildly astonished by…everything.

"I mean, can you get me high?"

My eyes must have bugged out of my head right then, and I choked on my own air, unsure of what to say to that. His own eyes were wide and unfocused. He was also completely calm, as if asking if I could find a way to get him _high_ was a normal everyday question. I coughed in to my hand and rose from my seat, trying to regain my composure and ask what the hell was going on. He tilted his head upright and back down over the other shoulder and make a small indecipherable noise. I stepped over to him and tried to get a good, closer look at his eyes. He blinked and opened them impossibly wide, as if not understanding when I had moved from my seat to suddenly be so near.

"Greg, what's wrong with you?" I asked, my voice laced with concern. He began to blink rapidly and tilted his chin inwards, still keeping what little eye contact we had intact. It made him look ridiculous; not that he didn't already. Up close I could smell something on him that seemed suspiciously like limonene. I had no idea why he would need to be handling limonene unless he had a need of paint thinner or nail polish remover. Suddenly he frowned and made a goofy expression, shaking his head in a sympathizing manner.

"You've lost the fucking plot," he told me consolingly. I had time to gape at him without an ounce of understanding before he ambled out of the break room, away down the hall. It took me a minute or so before I gathered my thoughts and realized that something was _very_ wrong with Greg, and he should be taken care of. I needed to figure out what was going on before he got himself hurt or something like that. Or fired. I charged out after him and glanced down both directions, picking one at random and hoping that I had chosen the right one. I moved swiftly through the halls, glancing around through the glass and trying to spot him quickly.

"Excuse me,"

His voice stopped me dead and I whipped my eyes around, trying to see where it had come from. I was standing right in the middle of the labs, and yet couldn't for the life of me spot the crazy guy. It was like he had suddenly developed Houdini skills. Finally my gaze snagged on him, hovering in the doorway of the AV lab and looking dazedly at Archie. The fellow technician was looking alternatively between his computer and Greg with mild interest, not suspecting anything out of the ordinary. I rushed around the two glass walls separating all of us and hurried to head off anything that could turn out not so good.

"Do you know where the dealers are?"

I plunged in to the room just in time to catch Archie looking up with a deeply confused expression. I grabbed Greg by the arm and apologized as I backed the both of us out of the room, hoping Archie wouldn't make too much of this. I made some sort of lame excuse about a case about drug dealers, and Greg giggled in my grasp. He asked if I could get him high and I shook my head, rushing us both to the supply closet and hoping no one was looking. A quick glance around told me we were generally unobserved, so I threw the door open, slipped us both inside, and threw the door shut. Greg was doing his wide-open eyes blinking rapidly thing again when suddenly he grinned lopsidedly.

"Greg what the hell is going on?" I demanded. His grin grew to foolish proportions.

"You've lost the fucking plot," he reminded me. Suddenly he looked down. "I can't feel my legs," he announced with astounding nonchalance. As if that was normal or OK. I stared at him as he continued to look down and inspect his legs, his fingers lightly tracing over the dirt streak on his jeans. He looked back up and didn't seem to notice my worry, or the fear that was slowly creeping up in me. I hated not knowing what was going on. But what were worse were the suspicions beginning to creep up in my head.

Suddenly he reached out and, before I had a chance to react, his hand was bemusedly caressing the side of my face. His fingers danced down my cheek, up my nose, and across my forehead. The entire time he had an expression of wonder, his mouth forming a small o shape. I was sure my own face was probably heated and full of shock and trepidation.

"You're skin is…so _soft_!" He announced with surprise. He stepped closer and I didn't have the brainpower to stop him. He raised his other hand and they both wound in to my hair, giving off startled exclamations about how soft my hair was, how brown my eyes were, how lovely my mouth looked. He declared that he wondered quite often how my mouth tasted, then without a seconds hesitation swept in and kissed me. He kissed me. Greg Sanders kissed me.

I froze, my eyes wide and staring at his closed eyelids. He gave a small whimper and moved his lips insistently against mine. What else could I do but kiss him back, when I had spent the last year and a half fantasizing about this. He seemed to appreciate it too, because he grabbed my upper arms and pulled us closer together with a happy noise. I couldn't resist the moan that slipped out, but it served a purpose, anchoring me back to reality. I pulled us apart with a huge effort, but he didn't seem to mind. Instead his eyes brightened and he drew a giant arc in the air with his hands.

"Wow! You taste so…wow! It's like cherries and mint and vanilla and coffee and boy do I ever like coffee. You know I had coffee last night and I was thinking of something but I don't remember what. Wow that light is really bright I wonder if the moon was that bright when Neil Armstrong landed on it, right? I mean did he go blind landing on a big ball of light?" As Greg went off on a random ramble, I dodged around him and frantically began searching through the shelves for a syringe. When I located one I almost dropped it in my hurry. He didn't even notice when I pricked it in to his skin, just looked at it curiously, still talking. He'd moved on to talking about the color of my shirt and how vibrant it was. My shirt was black.

He continued talking as I dragged him through the hallways and shoved him in to the DNA lab, where the tech that had replaced him was sitting calmly with – thankfully – nothing to do. I handed her the syringe full of Greg's blood and told her to do a tox run. Greg was standing where I'd left him in the corner, rambling away about the softness of my hair. I blushed deeply and prayed that the tech wasn't listening to him. Either she wasn't or she was pretending not to, because her face was calm as she worked quickly, throwing chemicals together with an ease that I noticed was only half as good as Greg had been. Greg, who was starting to run his hands along his own arms and pull at his clothing. I squeezed my eyes shut and urged the machines to work faster. It was hopeless; it would be at least fifteen minutes before the results came back.

I told the tech to come knock on the bathroom door when she had the results and dragged Greg down the hall with me, locking the door behind us after I had shoved him in to the men's washroom. If anywhere was safe in the lab to do whatever he was going to do, it was here. There was nothing for him to break or contaminate, and it was one of the only places not monitored by video security. The supply closet wasn't monitored either, which I was very thankful for. Greg was suddenly caught by the idea that his vest was getting heavier and heavier. He kept asking if I were putting rocks in his pockets. I was on the other side of the room.

He pulled at it until he suddenly tore it off and tossed it away from himself. Then he began pulling at his shirt and making icky faces at it, as if it smelled bad to him. Maybe that was the limonene that he was smelling, since the scent was still pretty strong, even to me. Even though I should have been suspecting it, I was unprepared for when he suddenly tore off his crumpled shirt, leaving him in only his jeans and converse shoes. His chest was toned and smooth, and my throat was suddenly very dry. His unfocused eyes were roaming around everything in the room, exclaiming about the pattern on the wall, going over to trace it rapidly. He came closer and closer to me and when he reached me he was almost vibrating. This was not good, not good at all.

"Greg…oh my god…what the hell happened to you?" he didn't answer my question because he was staring at my mouth. He licked his own lips, wringing his hands together and inching closer. I turned my head sideways and looked at him through one eye, becoming a little suspicious. He inched closer again and grinned, rubbing his arms. He became momentarily distracted by the hair on his arms, murmuring something about them coming alive.

"Just like you!" he cried out suddenly. I blinked and slowly asked what he meant. "You came alive too, you know? I mean you were in there and we were watching you and it was like…you were fading, yeah? But you came alive again. It's ok now because you're here and…you taste good Nicky." I had no idea what he was talking about for most of that short ramble but the ending threw me off balance. I blinked at him like a deer in headlights, giving him the chance the sidle up closer. He was but a breath apart when I heard him whisper. "I need to taste you again. Yes. Because you taste very…very…very nice."

And with that he leaned up and captured my lips in a second kiss. I moaned immediately because, even though I could tell by this point that he was on some sort of drug, it was still amazing. This was going to fuel my persistent fantasies for sure. His lips were soft and full, demanding in the right places, yielding in the right places. They moved against mine like something out of heaven, and I didn't even protest when he pushed me up against the tiled wall. He gave off a breathy moan and when I gasped at the sensation he dove inside, stroking his tongue along mine. My own moan this time was pretty loud and he swallowed it greedily, as if asking desperately for more. This time it was me grasping at his arms, afraid that if he didn't hold me up I would slide down the wall in a puddle of goo. My knees were pretty much water at this point.

A knock shattered the moment, and my thoughts refused to be collected as Greg took a step back, fascinated by the noise. He stared wildly around in every direction, trying to imitate the sound by making clicks in the back of his throat. I ran a hand down my face, noting the slight sheen of sweat that had broken out there. The knock came again and I reluctantly stepped over, fending Greg off, and peeked my head around it. The DNA tech handed me the results of the blood tox and I thanked her before pulling my head back in and flicking the lock over again. The analysis showed a giant spike of one substance in particular that made me sigh.

LSD

Greg was on a huge acid trip. Figures. I stared at him, now distracted by the reflection the lights made off the floor tiles, and wondered just how in hell Greg had come to ingest a hallucinogen while on the job. Then I wondered why he had kissed me – twice. I blamed it on the drugs, since there was no way he would do that if he were sober, but still. Maybe there was more to than that? I cut the thought off quickly and shook my head, looking back to the result sheet. If the levels in his blood were anything to go by, he had only begun to trip when I had taken the blood sample, since acid only stays in the system for about a half hour. Which meant that Greg still had six to eight hours left to trip out. I groaned and dropped my head in to my hands. Then one of those hands flew to my pocket and I took out my cell phone, staring at it like something foreign. I really didn't want to, but I had to. Greg could be a danger to himself.

When Grissom picked up the line, I found myself fumbling for a way to begin explaining what was going on. Greg could get fired if we found out anything other than someone had slipped him the drugs. If the blonde had taken them willingly, it was cause for end of employment. When the boss asked me if I had gotten the results that I was waiting for, I sighed and dove in headfirst.

"No, I ran in to Greg instead," I started. "We've got a situation here Gris." On the other end, Grissom was silent for a few moments, ostensibly trying to figure out what I could possibly mean by that. Then he cleared his throat a couple times before replying.

"What kind of situation?" he asked slowly. I lifted my head from its drooped position and took in the sight of Greg tracing something on one of the bathroom stalls. He was muttering something about how smooth the surface was and how the texture seemed to be dancing under his hand. This could only get worse.

"The kind of situation where I think someone slipped Greg something," I admitted. "He was acting weird so I got that new tech to run a tox screen. He's got LSD in his system, and the trip is only just starting. I need to take him home, it's getting pretty bad." I was met with silence again for a long time. I could just picture Grissom's half-startled face as he tried to appear calm like always. He was probably checking over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching him, or if anyone could hear him speaking. I tried to wait patiently but Greg was starting to shoot annoyed looks at his pants and I could foresee his next move.

"You know the danger in this situation Nick," Grissom's voice brought me back to the conversation and I nodded solemnly before I realized that he couldn't see me.

"Yeah I know," I clarified, "but I don't think he took them intentionally. It's not like him. I'll personally go over every inch of his last known whereabouts after he comes down from this." I wasn't sure whether or not to hope that Grissom heard the worry in my voice. It could be taken for a friend worrying about a friend, I suppose, but really it was so much more than that. Of course, no one here knew that I wanted to be more than friends with Greg, but that was beside the point. No one _needed_ to know but me. Not even Greg needed to know that. Not if I wanted him to stay friends with me.

"We can't wait that long. Ecklie is going to be all over this. Listen, take Greg somewhere safe, I'll come back to the lab and start with his car. I'll let you know if we find anything." I nodded silently again, and then cursed myself for being so absentminded.

"Yeah ok," I supplied in place of my nod. "I don't actually know where he lives, do you?" It suddenly struck me as a little odd that after so many years, I still hadn't found out where Greg lived. He'd been to my place plenty of times before, why had I never been to his? Getting sidetracked again!

"I have no idea," Grissom was saying. "Just take him to your place. I'll call you when I know something." We ended the call and I looked at Greg, doing a double take. He was standing in the middle of the room with nothing but his boxers on, dancing about and grasping at the air like there was something there to catch. I cautiously asked what he was doing, and he told me that he was trying to catch the Sun God Ra. He said that the light was bouncing off his skin and he needed to capture it. Only Greg, and only Greg on LSD. I shook my head and looked around for his pants. He had stuffed them inside his shirt and placed them in a sink.

In order to get him out of here, I needed to get him dressed. This could be quite a challenge. He seemed to ignore my words for a long time, continuing his dance under the 'sun'. Then when it finally got through to him that I wanted him to put his clothes back on he vehemently refused, telling me that they were heavy and he wanted to feel free. Whatever that meant. I tried to cajole and wheedle, I tried to demand, I tried to beg. Nothing worked. I was about to give up and just force him when he unwittingly came up with the solution himself. We were standing pretty close together, me holding his arm to stop the dancing, when he tried to lean over and kiss me again. I pulled back and he pouted. An idea immediately formed in my head.

"I'll give you a kiss if you get dressed," I offered. "I promise the clothes will feel nice." I threw in that last bit on a whim, since apparently this trip had largely triggered his touch sensory. And his taste sensory, but only when he was looking at me. At my suggestion he brightened and all but tore the garments away from me. He squealed happily that his pants were very tight and it felt very nice, making me turn my head so he wouldn't see me smile. I _always_ appreciated his tight pants, but probably in a different way. Greg probably didn't spend much of his time checking out his own ass. Or maybe he did, it was just like him to do something like that.

When he had his pants on he haphazardly threw his shirt on backwards. I already had his vest ready to go, hanging off my hands, and he took it quickly. He even did it up this time. Then he held his arms out to the side and presented himself for inspection, his attention veering off to make him mention that the white lines of the nametag on his vest seemed to be squirming. I thought he had forgotten about his so called reward so I turned away and made to open the door when I suddenly found myself pressed up against it.

"I get kisses…yes?" he murmured. I swallowed hard and nodded. His eyes fluttered closed and he leaned in to attack my mouth again. I did my best to suppress my body's reaction, holding back my moans and attempting to stop my knees from buckling. By the time we pulled apart I was breathless and weak all over. His hands were waving around, making nonsensical shapes.

"It's not cherries it's strawberries and jam and cinnamon and fresh coffee. Do you like jam? I like jam. I like jam and toast with coffee because jam always goes well with coffee. Do you think I could have a coffee?" As he went off on his rant I realized that now was a good time to escape. If he was talking about nonsense, he wasn't talking about how amazing that poster was, or how he really wanted to touch that glass wall. Both of these things he announced in whispers to my ear before other things caught his attention. He stopped walking at one point to reach out his fingers towards someone's coat. The person he was reaching towards looked at him like he was crazy, and I hoped that they were a temp without a big mouth.

I pulled on his arm but he really, really wanted to know what the material of that person's coat felt like. I tore his hand away and tried to drag him further down the hall but he dug his heels in and I couldn't very well do this the whole way without attracting attention. With a sigh I stopped, but refused to let him go back to fondle the scared temp tech. An idea struck me. A familiar idea. I leaned in so only he would hear me.

"If you can get to the car and look normal doing it, I'll give you another kiss," I whispered. "Would you like to taste me again?" His eyes went very wide and he stood up straighter, looking overly nonchalant. But it was better than exclaiming that everything was smooth and bright and amazing. So I let him lead the way to the parking garage and bounce around until he finally spotted my pickup among the other vehicles. He ran ahead and when I got there he was fiddling at the lock with his fingers as if he could slip inside and open it without a key. He was probably attempting to actually, the drugs addling his thoughts and making him believe he could.

I unlocked the truck for him and his eyes bugged out as he ran his hands over the leather, apparently intrigued by the texture. I had studied the effects of hallucinogens in school, and I knew that he was probably seeing everything much more intensely than usual. He probably imagined that he could see the separate ridges and valleys in the passenger seat on my truck. I watched him until he looked up and smiled, climbing in and immediately leaning over to press me against the door in a wild kiss. I would have protested if not for two things. One, he had earned it. It was his reward for being good. And two, I really didn't want to. I liked kissing him, and even though I would feel horrible later about taking advantage of his in this state, I couldn't help myself.

This kiss was short, and that was the one thing I really felt like protesting. But I tried to remain calm as I turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the lab. For the first time since I've known him Greg seemed uninterested in music. He seemed to be fascinated by holding out his hands and watched the sunlight flicker across his palms in obscure patterns. He continually gave off startled noises and murmured to himself about the burning heat of the sun the whole way. When I stopped the car he didn't even notice. I had to go around and unbuckle him, pulling him out and towards my house. He didn't seem perturbed at all that he was at my place instead of his own. He seemed excited about all the new things to examine and get worked up over. His finger ran over every available surface in my living room and he gave me a great bit long dissertation about every new sensation he discovered.

I watched him make his way around the room in a slow circle and when he made his way back to me he stopped. I cocked my head to the side and, just as when this whole mess had started, he imitated the movement. It made me wonder if he was conscious of it. This thought was distracting me when he suddenly surged forward and pushed in to my chest. I stumbled backwards about five steps and he caught up and pushed me again. I had the space to fall back one more step before I hit the wall and he pressed in to me, seeking my mouth with his with an almost urgent look on his face. I melted against the wall when I realized that he was kissing me again.

Throwing caution to the winds, and praying to god he wouldn't remember any of this, I wound my arms around him and fiercely kissed him back. His hands planted on the wall on either side of me, and one of mine wound in to his hair, the other pulling him closer from the small of his back. When his tongue stroked mine I began to wonder if I wasn't the one who was high. Surely this was all a giant hallucination and I would soon wake up to discover I had never gone in to work. I would find ten messages on my answering machine from Grissom asking where I was. Greg pushed his body farther in to mine and I was forced to admit that it was real. He was so warm and his body fit so well in to mine that I couldn't have stopped if the world was falling down around me.

Before I knew what was happening his hands had left the wall and were reached underneath my shirt, palms pressed flat against my skin and trailing everywhere, leaving fire in their wakes. I arched in to his touch and whispered his name. He pulled away long enough to whisper something about the taste of mint before diving back in. My senses were filled with him: his taste, his smell, his warmth, his touches. He surrounded me and I didn't even want to try and escape it. The hand I had pulled him in with left the small of his back to run up his muscles, across his shoulder, and down his bicep. He murmured his approval against my mouth even as he continued kissing.

His hands were everywhere. He stroked my hair and ghosted over my face with one. With the other he traced every line on my chest, every muscle in my arm, and landed on my hip. Without my express permission, my hips bucked forward when he caressed them, consequently grinding in to his. We both gasped at the sensation. I had dreamt about this for so long and never had I ever imagined that someday I might get to experience it for real. Except this wasn't real. Not really. That thought made me whimper in to his mouth and he swallowed the sound greedily. His hands were suddenly traveling downwards, but my brain was too teeming to compute where they were going until he was pulling at the button of my jeans.

"Greg wait," I protested weakly. It was wrong of me to take advantage of him like this; I knew that. But concentration was hard when my button was popping open and his mouth was trailing down my jaw to gently suckle at a spot behind my ear. The wall was now officially the only thing holding me up.

"Your skin tastes just as good as your mouth," I heard Greg mutter, his voice muffled by his lip's actions. I groaned and couldn't resist tilting my head away to give him better access to my neck. He growled happily and attacked the newly exposed flesh with vigor. His hands were fumbling lower, pulling on my zipper. My eyes flew open and I tightened my grip on his arm, trying to stop him.

"Greg stop, don't." He paused finally, pulling back to look me in the eye. His pupils were so big I could barely see any of the brown irises that I loved so much. It was a metaphor for the moment. The real Greg was lost somewhere in his own mind, taken over by this new man who wanted to kiss me senseless – and was doing a good job of it. But I knew that the real Greg wouldn't want this, and to let him do it now was like betraying him. Or letting him betray himself. Or both. All I knew was that I couldn't let him do it, no matter how much I wanted him to.

"You don't want it?" he whispered as if he had read my thoughts, still so close his breath mingled with mine. I closed my eyes and dropped my head back against the wall. He mewled and licked a hot stripe up the center of my throat, making my cock twitch, and I let out a yelp.

"Oh god Greg, I want it. You have no idea how bad I've wanted it. But…" Now that he was no longer firmly attached to me by the mouth I found the strength to push him back a step and look him in the eye. He looked serene, as if unperturbed by his own actions; even though I knew that if he remembered any of this he would probably never speak with me again. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, keeping the other on his arm to hold him away from myself. "Jesus Greg, we both know you'd wake up tomorrow and regret it. I can't. I can't do that to you." I opened my mouth to say something more, but he was eyeing my lips while licking his own and damn it if I didn't almost cum in my jeans right there.

With astronomical self-control I managed to tear myself off the wall and walk away from him. He followed and watched as I rummaged around in one of my desk drawers. When I looked up to check on him he was fingering the fabric of my couch, his eyes widening and narrowing rapidly as who knows what kind of thoughts ran through his head. Likely he had already forgotten about the kiss and my stopping him. Nothing could really rivet his attention at the moment, with acid running through his veins and expanding his brain.

By the time I had finished setting up what I had found in the drawer he was rubbing his hands together slowly, fascinated by the texture of his own skin. I called to get his attention and made him sit at my desk to show him what I had for him. It was one of those small fountain replicas, meant to make soothing sounds to relax you. It was only about six inches tall, and it was molded in to a splashing waterfall scene. The bottom was littered with imitation rocks – pebbles. The water cascaded over many layers of slab rocks and fell unheeded down the last inch into a small pool.

With a startled exclamation Greg jammed two fingers in to the small stream of water at the bottom of the falls, loving the feeling of running water as much as I had thought he would. The distraction worked even more perfectly than I anticipated. I watched TV for the next few hours while he remained in the same spot, alternating between fingering the smooth pebble rocks and letting the water run over his fingertips. I checked on him frequently, but he never moved once. He didn't even go to the bathroom.

After about four hours I could see his eyelids beginning to droop. The fountain was working its double purpose: putting him slowly to sleep. With a smug smile I showed him where the bathroom was and made him go, strictly refusing to come in with him. He offered though. After that I took him and got him to lie down in my bed, tucking my thick blue comforter around him. He absolutely loved the soft cotton apparently, since he squirmed around and squealed happily. When he caught me watching he stopped and stared at me. I stared back at him. Then he closed his eyes and, although I'm sure he only meant to blink, he fell right asleep. I breathed a deep sigh; mission accomplished. He had crashed at last and we had both survived through his trip. While sending up a prayer of thanks that it hadn't been a violent trip, I dug an extra blanket out of my hall closet and bedded down on the couch.

For a long time sleep wouldn't come. We had, after all, gone home pretty early. I wasn't due to go to bed for quite some time yet. Eventually though I was overtaken by the exhaustion that can only come from years of hard work and little rest. My dreams were far from troubled. I dreamt of Greg. It was nothing new; I dreamt of him quite often. Only now I had fodder for my dreams and it was made the most of. Greg's lips, so soft and warm against my neck, I could feel them everywhere on my body. We were in a smoky room, and his outline was hazy. I could hear his breathing and I could smell his cologne. It struck me that I hadn't even realized that I knew he wore cologne. It was just a scent that I connected with him.

His face swam up out of the smoke and I moaned his name. He smirked and leaned in, pressing our lips together. A very real warmth against my lips dragged me out of my deep slumber and when I opened my eyes, Greg's face really was right there, slowly pulling away until he saw that I was awake. He stopped, still quite close, and smiled gently. I blinked groggily at him, uncomprehending. Then it hit me and suddenly I was wide-awake. He really had kissed me. I checked my watch to see that five hours of slumber had gone by. Suddenly I was filled with worry.

"You shouldn't still be high," I muttered, more to myself than him. But he had kissed me, so I rummaged around in the table next to the couch, coming up with a small maglite. He sat calmly with his small smile as I shone the flashlight in to both of his eyes. His pupils were normal sized, so all I had accomplished in doing was illuminating his beautiful brown irises. The real Greg was back. The light dropped out of my suddenly shaking hand. "You're not high." I couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement.

Greg's smile grew a tiny bit and he silently shook his head. I blinked and looked around us. I was lying on the couch under my green blanket, using the cushy armrest as a pillow. He was seated in front of me on the coffee table, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned in close to me. Our faces were maybe a foot and a half apart. I could see behind him, where his shoes were off and neatly placed beside mine. His Kevlar vest, which he had worn to bed, was hanging on the coat rack above his shoes. Apparently he'd been up long enough to make himself comfortable.

"I don't understand," I mumbled. His smile grew bigger, with his lips still pressed together but turned so far up at the corners he almost had my dimples. For a second he looked down and shook his head. When he raised his head he leaned back a fraction of an inch and looked me right in the eye.

"Funny thing about LSD, a lot of people remember everything the next day." At his words I shrank back in to my couch, a little bit afraid. Would he hate me now? Would he be angry that I had taken horrible advantage of him like that? Would he be disgusted that I had really wanted it? A million thoughts ran through my head until he reached out a hand and barely brushed my skin as he ran it down my cheek tenderly. "Have you really wanted this like I have?" he asked. I thought for a moment that I was still asleep. I couldn't breathe.

"You want me?" I whispered, unable to garner more volume than that. Suddenly his face burst in to that full-blown million-watt smile that I treasured more than my own life. His eyes glittered with it and I couldn't have drawn a breath even if I wanted to. Which I didn't. Breathing would only ruin such a perfect moment. Funny, as soon as I thought that, he chuckled lowly and leaned across the small space, pressing his lips firmly top mine.

And this time it was real. I was half sitting up on my couch and he was leaning over from my coffee table and it was our first real, rational kiss. And it couldn't have been more perfect. He mewled and pressed closer to me, pushing me back against the cushions, and I was only too happy to let him slowly crawl on top of me. He straddled my hips and dug his hands in to my hair to hold me tighter to him. I was left far behind, clutching his hips for dear life, still afraid to breathe. I wasn't quite sure, but I thought I heard my own voice moaning frantically. Then it was like I had let loose a wildcat.

My shirt fell open before I could realize he had started fumbling with the buttons and his hands on my chest had me breaking the kiss to arch in to his touch. I cried out with his hot mouth descended on the nipple offered up to him and couldn't help realizing that my dream was actually coming true. The irony was lost as quickly as it came, my head emptying of thoughts in favor of focusing on his tongue, currently making a path to the opposite nipple.

The same as the night before, it was when his hands began pulling my jeans that my head finally kicked in to gear. I ground my hips upward and cherished the gasp that flew from his lips. His t-shirt, I decided, had no business being there, so I removed it quickly. He didn't really seem to have a problem with that. When the offending garment was gone I sat up and pulled him in to my own chest, and the feeling of his skin on mine was absolutely amazing. And then Mr. Ninja Hands was suddenly in my pants, and I'd had no idea that he had actually gotten them undone. It didn't matter though because his fingers were ghosting along my inner thigh and I was crushing our lips back together, trying to plead with him without words.

My breath whooshed out in one quick huff when warmth wrapped around the base of my shaft and my eyes flew open, connecting with his. His were glittering and dark with lust, burning in to me with amazing intensity. I couldn't look away as I brought my own hand around to his jeans, stumbling on the button. He tightened his grip on my cock and gave one long slow pull. I gasped and jerked up against him, pulling desperately at his clothing. The button opened and I yanked the zipper down in record time, pushing the material down to his knees. I would have looked down and inspected my prize if I could have broken eye contact. As it was, I was riveted to his face, so all I could do was wrap my hand around him. Touch alone told me he was well endowed and it made me shiver.

Just like he had done to me I slowly dragged my hand along him, applying pressure in all the places that I knew would feel good. His eyes fluttered like he had to fight not to close them and his jaw hung slack. That sight alone was the hottest thing I have ever seen in my entire life.

"Nicky," my name fell from his lips as soft as a breath and I knew I looked surprised. I almost couldn't believe I would have that effect on him. Suddenly it was like all the barriers were down and we were both moving against each other in a frenzy. It was all harsh breathing and grasping hands and frantic rubbing. I tore my eyes from his only to dive in for a kiss. Then I threw my head back and cried out as he twisted his wrist around me in the most wonderful way.

His mouth fell to my neck and I thought I heard him mumble something about me still tasting as good as last night. I wasn't concentrating on it though. I was concentrating on the way he rocked in to my hand, making our cocks brush up against each other. There was a slow fire burning in the base of my spine while he sucked gently on my Adam's apple. I took my second hand from his hip and reached between us to brush my thumb over his nipple. He quivered, and again when I repeated the action. Encouraged, I rolled the nub between my thumb and finger before reaching across to the other. Suddenly Greg was gripping my shoulder with his free hand and the one working me sped up.

"Oh…fuck…Nick…" he let out a low insistent sound and jerked. Heat splashed over my hand and I knew he had just came. For me. Because of me. That thought pushed me over my own edge, and I fell in to the fire willingly. The white liquid pooled between us, mostly in one big puddle on my abdomen, but I didn't give a damn. Greg was holding himself above me with one shaking arm and the other was still wrapped loosely around my base as he stared in to my eyes, out of breath.

It took me a moment to realize that neither of us could move without spilling our seed all over my couch. Lacking the energy to even laugh, I simply sat up a bit and pulled my shirt the rest of the way off, using it to soak up the rapidly drying cum. It needed to be washed anyway. When we were both clean I lay back down and stared up at Greg. God he was beautiful just like that. My hand came up of its own accord and traced patterns on his chest. He hummed in appreciation and closed his eyes to the sensation.

"Thank you for taking care of me last night," he whispered out of nowhere. He opened his eyes again and smiled down on me. I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively.

"Thank you for taking care of me this morning," I countered. His jaw dropped in shock that I would say something so blatantly dirty, but in my post-orgasmic haze I couldn't be blamed for anything that passed my lips. He chuckle and leaned down to nuzzle my cheek and nip at the hallow of my throat. I groaned and leaned my head away to give him better access. Things were just starting to heat up again when the shrill wail of my cell phone rent the air, making us both almost leap out of our skins. Laughing, I dug the phone out of my pocket, a little lower than usual due to Greg having pushed the pants down off my waist.

"Stokes," I greeted. Grissom's voice sounded in my ear and asked how things had turned out with Greg. I almost died trying to hold in my laughter. I could feel my face turning red as I looked at the man still straddling my hips, mostly naked. "He's great Gris. No problems last night. Still here. Hey…why didn't you call earlier? You said you'd be checking things out like right away!" Irritation suddenly flooded me when it struck my mind that it had been nine hours since Grissom was supposed to look in to Greg's car for evidence. Good or bad, I should have gotten word within at least a couple hours.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," Grissom apologized. "Listen, ask Greg if he took any Aspirin yesterday." This seemed way off topic, but I knew my boss well. It was going to lead somewhere important, so I dutifully asked the question and gave Grissom the affirmative. "Then I know what happened. The Aspirin bottle in his car? Full of acid tablets. Somebody switched the pills on him and he probably never noticed that they were smaller than usual. Tell him I got everything covered; he's good to come back in to work tonight. But keep him with you until then, just to make sure there's no relapse."

We hung up and I looked back to my friend. I relayed the information but that conversation was already miles from my mind. I was instead focused on the bare-chested beauty above me, shamelessly hanging out of his jeans, already half hard again. I smiled and he smiled too, running a tender hand through me short hair.

"So where do we go from here?" he asked in a soft voice. I smirked.

"The bed?" I asked. "I wonder what we could get up to until work tonight." He looked surprised again and I pulled as innocent a face as I could manage. He dropped his head back and laughed loudly at my antics. He had rubbed off on me so much in the past few years that I was starting to sound like him. Not that that was a bad thing.

"Not what I meant Nicky," he said once he stopped laughing. He looked a little nervous. "I mean…are we dating or what?" I just looked at him with a crooked smirk. He shifted over me a couple times until he could no longer stand it. "What?" he demanded, making me chuckle.

"I just find it very ironic that after all this time we finally get here…and it's you that's all nervous and it's me that all confidant. I always thought it would be the other way around. We're dating you goof. Now take me to bed." I sat up quickly and kissed him deeply, loving the mewling noise that he apparently made quite often. He had no other protests. We made it down the hall, kicking our jeans all the way off somewhere along the way, and fell in to my bed together completely naked.

This time it was me that sat across his hips, pinning him with my weight and holding his hands above his head. He purred like a content wildcat as I suckled on his neck hard enough to leave a mark. I hoped that he wouldn't hide it tonight. As we got right back in to things I couldn't help but wonder if Greg had actually noticed the pills and taken them anyway. I grinned in to set of abs I was tracing with my tongue. Either way it got me what I had always wanted. Maybe I should try some and see what happened. During my off hours of course. Then I briefly wondered if Grissom had any suspects yet. That thought wandered off as I set my mind to the task at hand.

"Greg?"

"Hmmmm?"

"You taste good too."

Work that night was brilliant. I drove Greg home to get him a change of clothes and was delighted when he chose a shirt with a low collar. His shiny red hickey was proudly displayed for all the world to see, and I couldn't resist the smirk that struck me every time I saw it. Even now, five hours in to my shift. He walked in to the break room and sent me a wink. From my spot on the couch I felt a giant quirky smile fill my face, but I ignored the odd look Warrick gave me and continued talking about football stats.

Grissom had informed us as soon as we got in to work that he had lifted prints from the Aspirin bottle in Greg's car that belonged to one of his neighbors. Turned out to be a random prank gone bad. They had selected the car to plant the LCD in at random, not knowing that it belonged to someone who worked in a crime lab. They were tracked down at their own workplace and fined. I watched the guy's disbelieving face with relish, glad that Grissom had solved most of my puzzle. The rest of my puzzle, was solved not two minutes after Greg came in to the break room to have his dinner break.

He had brought with his his portable CD player from his tech days, placing it on the counter beside the coffee pot and slipping in a random CD. Multiple weird song beginnings flashed by as Greg flicked through his song selection, obviously looking for one in particular. I had just returned my attention to Warrick when Greg gave off a happy exclamation that he had found the right song.

"Excuse me,"

My head shot up and my sentence dropped off right in the middle. I stared disbelievingly at the small silver and blue radio sitting on the counter. Greg took a step back from it and tilted his head questioningly.

"Do you know where the dealers are?"

I began making strangled choking noises and Warrick thumped me on the back, probably thinking I was actually choking on something. Far from that, I was having minor apoplexy. Greg tentatively asked if I was ok and before I could answer, the song spoke again.

"I mean, can you get me high?"

I began to laugh uproariously, rocking in my seat. Greg and Warrick exchanged worried glances in my peripheral vision, and that only made me laugh harder. I clung to my sides as the song repeated to me the words that had started this whole thing and wondered if Greg remembered _everything_ he had done while he was having his acid trip.

"That's what you kept saying to me!" I wheezed through my laughter. "I didn't know it was a song!" I hoped he understood what I meant because that was all I could get out. Comprehension dawned on Greg's face and I could see the grin spreading across it as well. He joined me in laughter and told me that it had been the last song he listened to while driving to the lab. He mused that maybe the idea had stuck in his head when the acid had kicked in. Warrick was looking extremely lost, so I filled him in on what had happened the night before.

And then, because I was feeling high on life alone, I danced. I leaped from my seat, bounced over to Greg, and started to head bang like I had seen him doing countless times. He gave me the same shocked-at-your-behavior look, then joined in. Warrick was probably considering whether or not it was me who was high now, but it didn't matter. I had Greg, and I was feeling adventurous. We tossed our heads about with abandon and danced as if it was just the two of us there. It wasn't even just the three of us there for long. Catherine walked in the door, saw us both dancing like wild beasts, and backed out again. She returned with Gil and Sara, and Warrick went over and hid behind them. I felt so free.

Greg flashed me a grin and I decided to take a chance. I reached out and grabbed him by the wrist, pulling him in close so we were face to face and grinding to the beat. He immediately fell in to the rhythm and I drifted away from reality. I forgot anyone else was there. The only thing I was aware of was the techno beat and the feel of Greg against as we swayed to it. He wrapped one arm around my waist and raised the other above his head and I could almost see the shadows flicker across his face with strobe lights like he was in a club. I mirrored him, letting loose in a way I had never done. Not even when I _had_ been in clubs. I guess it was just what Greg did to me.

The song was only a few minutes long, short for techno, but the next one picked up with a completely different beat. It called for mad dancing. So we danced madly. Still not remembering that there were other people there we took a half step away from each other and went absolutely crazy. I took his hand and spun him in a circle and he threw his head back laughed as we waved our arms, shook our hips, and bopped our heads. It felt amazing. For a moment I could see time moving in slow motion as he smiled at me and I smiled at him and I was sure both our faces would break with such big smiles. Our bodies moved slow motion for a second, and then we sped up again and I could feel myself back in my own body. It was then that I remembered that we had an audience.

Grissom, when I turned, looked like he wasn't sure what to feel about the scene we were creating. He looked torn between reprimanding us for such unprofessional behavior and being amused. Warrick looked scared out of his mind. Sara and Catherine were flabbergasted, and their expressions made me wish I had a camera. Ten years ago I would have been mortified and considered quitting my job. Ten months ago I would have been so embarrassed I would have immediately exited the building and avoided everyone for days. Ten hours ago I would have gone red and stammered in my well known aw shucks attitude. But now? Now I had tasted Greg Sanders, and I was pretty sure he was a drug in and of himself. He had infected me with his spirit and I loved the feeling. So instead of being embarrassed, I reached out and pulled Catherine in with us and urged her to join in the fun.

"Who are you and what have you done with my Nicky?" she asked laughingly, starting to swing her hips around. I laughed too, but suddenly there was a pair of arms around my waist and I could feel Greg's chest pushed against my back. He bared his teeth at Catherine over my shoulder in a mock growl.

"_My_ Nicky," he insisted. She laughed harder and danced with more vigor. We three danced up a storm and lived it up for a couple more songs before Grissom decided that play time was over. Catherine got real in to it, too. She had started busting out moves from her days as an exotic dancer and if she had a pole, Warrick's puddle of drool would have been under it. He was distracted from staring at me as if I were a maniac by his need to watch her butt while it wiggled about. That was all well and good for him, but I had Greg dancing right next to me, so I didn't need to ogle Catherine's butt.

When the tunes suddenly stopped invading the air I joined in voicing my protests. A day ago I would have been the one to blush and hide off in a corner somewhere. Now I jigged in a small circle without music before putting one arm around Greg's shoulders and using him for a leaning post. Sara was staring at me in the same freaked out manner that Warrick had, and Grissom had his eyes narrowed in his weird intense scientist way. His glasses were so far down his nose that they were almost falling off.

"Nick...what was that?" he asked. I grinned happily and shrugged.

"I just felt like dancing Gris, that a crime?" I asked cheekily. Greg bopped me with his hip and I smiled and bopped him back. He shoved me and I shoved him back. Grissom took off his glasses slowly and looked at us funny. I stared back at him and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Nick are you sure _you_ didn't have any of Greg's Aspirin?" he murmured, the question only half serious. I chuckled, shaking my head and assuring him that I didn't. And then, since Greg was so close, and I was feeling so adventurous, and they all wanted answers, all the signs seemed to asking me to do it. So I did. I kissed Greg. I'll admit that it was a bit dramatic, but that's how I always wanted it to be. I had always wanted us to be big and dramatic and just like a movie scene. So I took what I had always wanted and created my very own movie scene. I moved the arm I had draped around Greg's shoulders down to circle his waist. My hook pulled him around in a half circle to face me, and as soon as he arrived there I took his face in my hands and kissed the living daylights right out of him. He didn't seem to see anything wrong with that. His arms encircled my back and he tilted his head in to it.

A collective gasp came from all our other friends and it made us both smile in to the kiss. We didn't break it off though; we kept right on kissing until oxygen made its importance known. I pulled away and blinked to clear the spots dancing in front of my eyes, smiling like an ass. Then I looked up at them all, looked at Greg, and smirked as I looked back at them, clearing my throat.

"You've lost the fucking plot!"

* * *

A/N: Inspired by and including lyrics from the song "Lost The Plot" by Darren Styles; I don't own it.


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